


Blackout

by sickly _sweet (sketchy_and_unformed)



Category: Viva La Bam RPF
Genre: Casual Sex, Heavy Drinking, M/M, almost character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-20
Updated: 2005-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketchy_and_unformed/pseuds/sickly%20_sweet
Summary: He remembers this much: Bam’s room is just across the hall, and even after hours of vodka-pineapples he can make it that far without falling over.
Relationships: Bam Margera/Brandon Novak
Kudos: 3
Collections: Livejournal reposts: CKY/HIM





	Blackout

Everyone knows that sex is the one thing that Novak seems to be good at. It’s the thing he wants most out of life. Staying off of the heroin seems that much easier when he knows he can get laid every night.  
  
He doesn’t know why Bam was nice enough to give him a room in his house, almost unconditionally. It was probably just to get him out of Baltimore, because God knows that place has treated him like shit his whole life. His father is there. Every filthy junkie with a tab in his name lives there. Bam offered him a fresh start and he took it, pretending not to realise that he still had a dozen warrants and as many cops and thugs out to get him. He was glad of the chance, really, and it seems like there’s a bangable chick for every day of the year hanging out in West Chester.  
  
That’s not all there is in West Chester. Although skirt chasing is undeniably his forte, Novak doesn’t always get lucky. That is to say, he doesn’t, and he does. He has backup. Whose idea it was or how it happened the first time he’s unsure of, because there’s always been enough alcohol to blur the edges and create feasible blackouts the next day. But he knows that if he comes home empty handed, Bam’s door is always open. Literally.  
  
He remembers this much. Bam’s room is just across the hall, and even after hours of vodka-pineapples he can make it that far without falling over. Bam’s door is always ajar, and there’s a soft light from the glow of his computer screen that spills out of the room, almost inviting him. Maybe that’s all it was the first time; that light. Or maybe not. Novak doesn’t like to dwell on it, because he’s only there because no chicks would give it up.  
  
Sometimes though, he wonders if he does it on purpose. There was a time that Novak would score at least six nights out of the seven in a week, but these days it’s less. Maybe four or five. Sometimes even three.  
  
Novak’s been in jail, so the whole thing was never new to him. He can’t speak for Bam, though. All he does know is that there’s one of Dunn’s t-shirts beneath the bed, and it’s been there for as long as he cares to remember.  
  
He doesn’t know why he would intentionally avoid hitting on girls just so he could come home empty handed. Bam smells better than most of the cheap whores he finds. His room is warmer, more personal than his own, even though he’s been given free rein to decorate it however he wants. But with no hobbies aside from sex and drugs, it doesn’t give him much scope. So his walls are plain, and there’s something different about the Valo posters that stare down at him in Bam’s room.  
  
Bam’s skin is soft and pale; his eyes are deep and dark after hours. Bam’s the only person that Novak always makes one hundred percent certain to use condoms with because fuck, Bam sure as hell doesn’t have to be _this_ hospitable. This officially goes above and beyond the call of duty.  
  
Bam makes breathy, pleading noises right before he comes, and his sweat tastes almost sweet.  
  
But these are things that Novak doesn’t like to think about. He lets the vodka blackouts take care of most of it. And banging some random the next night takes care of the rest.


End file.
